


Give Me Half of the Sky

by jenni3penny



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-10 18:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18413861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni3penny/pseuds/jenni3penny
Summary: "Sometimes, she thought, sometimes humanity’s understanding of the cosmos could be disastrously incorrect. Just ask Pluto."





	1. Chapter One

She heard and recognized Ducky’s voice long before she had even shifted on the mattress, stretching her legs out slowly. She smirked to herself as she half listened and kicked her feet free from the topsheet, hearing their combined voices but not with enough definition to know exactly what they were saying to each other.

Jack kept her eyes closed, stretched back flat in the comforting smell of him as his voice answered with gentle warmth. Another small laugh puffed past her lips as Ducky picked up the conversation once again, his portion always two or three times longer than Jethro’s. Gibbs was monosyllabic most days of the week - she didn't figure he got any more extemporaneous on Saturdays. Especially when she was fairly sure Doctor Mallard’s arrival had been a surprise. Gibbs would have warned her otherwise, somewhere between one and two thirty in the morning, between whispers and fumbling and laughter.

“And what about Jacqueline?” She sighed in appreciation as she caught at least that part of the conversation. She only caught the actual words as he moved from one room to another, passing the bottom of the stairs.

Mallard’s comforting voice on her name always sounded so wonderfully warm and sweet. She loved that he used her full name, that he treated it as something to be cherished and held softly, reverently. He was such a damn fine gentleman. She hadn't known him nearly as long as most of the others and she still missed seeing him, missed that near pedantic way of his.

Gibbs made a noise in his throat and she could nearly see him shrugging it off as the basement door creaked in answer to his tugging. “She’s upstairs.”

Well… there it was. Big truth, out in the open, implying aplenty. Jack laughed to herself and at the inelegant delivery as she stretched out farther, trying to imagine the look of surprise on the older man's face. It wasn't all that hard to do, really. Ducky was adorably expressive at times.

She strained to hear the response, though she didn’t end up needing to, really. Ducky’s answer was abrupt and louder than necessary. “Excuse me?”

“She’s not up yet,” was the answer, Jethro’s voice getting more garbled as they moved farther away.

They had to have been heading for the basement because the very last audible thing she heard was Ducky near shouting with annoyance. “That’s not _at all_ what I meant!”

If they were in the basement then she was free and clear to get some of the coffee she'd been smelling, maybe make some toast, _accidentally_ eavesdrop a little.

And all without having to put pants on.

Win, win.

***

“She didn’t wanna drive home,” he tossed off behind him, half waving it off as Ducky followed down his basement steps at a slower pace. “I didn’t want her driving home.”

“Did anything happen?”

He questioned Ducky's definition of ‘ _anything_ ’. Because the former Medical Examiner would have been more interested in the fact that he’d ended up kissing her uncontrollably and shoving her up on his kitchen counter so that he could feel what it was like to put her legs around him.

But _he_ was far more concerned by the fact that he had realized he was falling for her at the same moment she’d ousted his ass from a poker game and taken all his winnings with a bright grin and laughter.

Grace had seen it, too. That had been obvious. Because he'd turned his head away from Jack's smile in an attempt to breathe properly and found his friend and therapist giving him a loopy goddamn grin.

Like it was obvious to the whole wide world, therapists included, that he was falling for the mouthy blonde who had just brazenly called his bluff.

So… had anything happened?

 _Oh. Y'know… Plenty_.

“Like what?”

“ _Jethro_.” Ducky sighed in annoyance, shaking his head slowly as his body slanted to lean against the boat.

“Can’t kiss and tell, Duck,” he argued with a half of a laugh and plenty of deflection.

“Don't you play coy - now, you know I’ll just go up there and ask her myself.”

Now, that was true.

And completely plausible.

Mallard was one to hunt out his answers and his relationship with Jack was wide open, warm, and utterly honest. She also thought (and repeatedly said) that the older man was ‘ _the cutest_ ’ person at NCIS, Kasie coming up right behind him.

She'd purposely spill the whole damn can of beans and not even blink - or clean it up. It was pointless trying to keep anything to themselves when Ducky was the one asking. Not with her involved.

“I like her here - and I like her safe. It was late and I insisted she stay.”

Ducky grinned, his eyes sparked and shining. “You two - you're the same coin you know?”

“Naw,” he grinned, letting the smile show through, not worrying about the other man seeing it. “She’s still got that copper shine.”

“Have you told her that?”

Gibbs considered it a moment, shrugged forward into acceptance. “She knows.”

“You haven't slept together?” Ducky surmised slowly, somehow aware that whatever was beginning hadn't progressed all that far beyond kissing her awhile, or watching her fight against sleep. That had been a sight, too… She’d fought valiantly to stay awake, like a stubborn kid. At least until he’d started fiddling with her hair. He had no problem bringing out the big guns when needed and most women, well, they couldn’t fight him on that.

“Stayed with her awhile, least ‘til she crashed. I grabbed a couple hours on the couch,” he admitted, more softly conversational. Gibbs shrugged after, like studying her as she’d slept had been nothing new. Like the fact she was wearing one of his shirts to sleep in was a new normalcy and nothing to get excited about.

Except seeing her bright and blonde prettiness in his one of his dark flannel shirts (and pretty much _only_ that)… well, he _had_ been excited. Parts of him had been, anyhow.

And Ducky likely knew it if the judicious look on his face was any indication. “At least your penchant for honesty is conversationally rewarding.”

He made a huffed noise and waved between them in frustration, “Whatdya want from me, Duck? That woman…”

His friend's eyes widened, a smile all over his face as he urged Gibbs on with a “Yes?”.


	2. Chapter Two

She realized she was holding her breath but she didn't much care. Oxygen was less important than hearing the end of his sentence - and especially after the long and strong kisses he'd gifted her with the night before.

“Can't screw this one up.”

“You _did_ start something,” Ducky surmised, voice rife with an encouragement that made her skin go warm.

“I told her that she's a pain in my ass,” he admitted easily, openly. It was a moment before he exhaled and finished his thought aloud, though. “But she's funny and smart and I like her sass. She’s beautiful.”

He hadn't actually _told_ her the second part so much as implied it when he'd made her laugh over something stupid, something Fornell had said during the game. Rather, he'd implied it when he'd kissed her mid-laughter, pressing her into his kitchen counter and grasping at her hips. There hadn't been much subtlety to the hint as he’d pulled up against her and it had taken less than ten dazed seconds for her to stretch up onto the counter and draw him in closer in kissing.

Letting Jethro Gibbs wrap her denim clad legs around his hips was an opportunity she hadn't really thought would ever come but halle-fuckin-lujah. She thought she'd never get him between her legs but _there he was_ , proving the Oddsmakers losers while he stroked her thighs and kissed her like she belonged in his kitchen.

Like she belonged in his bed.

In his pilfered shirt and her socks.

Down the creaky basement stairs and right into his conversation. “Morning, gentlemen.”

She _really_ had self control issues sometimes…

“Good morning, dear.” There was such a wealth of affection in Ducky's voice, something so specific to him and so sweet.

She had never, since meeting him, distrusted that tone of voice. It was so genuine, so sincere. Jack walked right into it as quickly as she could, right from the bottom of the steps. She knew that Gibbs was watching her but she desperately wanted the hug she knew she would get from the older man, needing that unfettered adoration.

She needed it for balance, maybe. Leaning into him and squeezing tight bolstered her more than she could have imagined.

Because she had very suddenly second guessed her decision to walk in on them. “Missed you, Ducky.”

“Your emails make missing you harder and easier all at once,” he told her as they hugged, her right hand lifting her coffee away to keep from spilling. She’d purposely pulled down the stolen FLETC cup she’d found in one of the kitchen cupboards and decided it was a favorite. “I can almost hear you reading them.”

“I like telling stories,” she murmured before kissing his cheek softly. His smile was what she met after and he just tipped his head and nodded over her shoulder.

For a moment she wasn’t sure that she wanted to turn around. She wasn’t entirely sure she could - at least not until Mallard gave her a good natured wink and a literal shove, right against the hip. She laughed as she turned, the whole of her stopped up by bright blue eyes and the way Gibbs was tossing aside the towel he’d been rolling in his hands.

“Hi there,” she murmured low, stepping forward and exhaling as his empty left hand stretched out and tugged at the fabric of his own shirt. Jack grinned as he yanked her closer, his head lifted and back as she took a sip of coffee. One brow went up and he put on an annoyed look as she continued swallowing down the cooling coffee, his palm sliding along her hip in a way that levelled out her breathing.

“Mornin’,” he said softly, nodding as she drew the coffee from between them and smirked up at him. Gibbs snorted a half laugh and gripped her up close and she caught the way Ducky was already heading for the stairs in her peripheral. “Leave any sugar for the rest of the District?”

“Don't be a shit.”

She stepped into kissing him, ignoring the audience. The laugh he'd given after her response had been enough to draw her forward and lean her into him, despite any second thoughts she may have had before. It helped that his other hand caught into flannel and tugged her square to him, putting her right in his trajectory.

She wasn't sure there would be a day wherein kissing him wasn't a surprise. So she honestly just tried to enjoy it as much as she possibly could. Especially when he tugged her tight, pushed his tongue against hers and made her whimper. He tasted like dark roast coffee and unmitigated possession. Every time he kissed her he owned her. Done deal.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbled quietly against her lips as she broke away. It took just a breath of a moment for him to shake it off, jaw going up in a tease. “Doctor Mallard was gonna take me to breakfast so you should probably get your stuff packed up and - ”

“ _Jethro_.” Their friend was already up the bottom two steps and waving them off for being ridiculous.

The younger of the two men chuckled after being interrupted, his smile wide and reckless between them. “Us. He's offering to take us to breakfast, apparently.”

Jack just matched the depth of his smile with her own and nodded, “At the diner? Sure. I could eat.”

“Wonderful!” Ducky paused and leaned into the railing, giving her a once over and a half smile, “You'll need pants, my dear.”

She rolled her eyes as she finished off her coffee, giving Gibbs a wink before turning for the stairs. “ _Boring_.”

***

She had known, even before he'd gotten the call, that a free and clear Saturday morning would have been a proverbial miracle. And miracles were hard to come by when she was already having some pretty excellent luck. She'd pretty much figured that he would get called in.

What she hadn't banked on was the fact he had kissed her before leaving, lightly and soft and right in front of their beloved colleague for the second time that morning.

He'd dropped cash on the table and tossed her his house keys. “Later? Yeah?”

Jack nodded silent agreement while realizing that she had been waiting for this moment to ruin the morning. She sighed as she dropped the keys and gripped the handle of her coffee cup, blinking when he'd paused. His whole body jerked against the urge to leave and Ducky laughed when he noticed the internal war, eyes bright.

“Go, Jethro. I'll entertain her in your place.”

“That's what I'm afraid of, Duck,” he answered, joking and squeezing his friend's shoulder. “She already thinks you're cuter than me.”

Jack just grinned in answer and nodded toward Mallard, “That's definitely true.”

He half ignored her teasing as he stepped toward the door, pointing back at her as his steps gained speed, “Can you come in if - ”

“Just call me.”

Ducky’s face was full of excitement, barely contained and all child-like. “He asked instead of demanding.”

She just smiled and lifted her cup as Gibbs made his way out the diner door, “He doesn't generally get far by demanding anything.”

“With you.”

She took a slow swallow of coffee before answering, seeing silent laughter in the older man's eyes. “With me.”


	3. Chapter Three

“I just gave Jack all the personnel files from Mattison's unit. She said she could probably narrow it down pretty quickly.”

Wait… Jack was there?

“ _Why_?” Gibbs demanded sharply, head drawn back as he watched Nick step in behind his own desk.

“ _Why_ what? She asked for them.” Nick's voice went surly and defensive, his attitude already striking up a wall between them. Gibbs rolled his eyes as he stepped out from behind his desk, ignoring Bishop and McGee as they watched.

“ _Why_ did you call her in here?”

Confusion clouded up the younger man's face, “I didn't, Gibbs.”

“Vance did,” McGee told them both, pressing off the edge of his desk and moving himself farther into the conversation, closer in defense of Torres. _Good man_. “She was in MTAC an hour ago, Boss. She's been here awhile.”

Which meant she had to be working on something else for Vance, as he'd already been suspecting. Her door had been closed up more than once in the last couple weeks, at least more often than usual.

Not that he’d been looking for her…

“Lookin’ pretty lazy-Saturday-morning too. That shirt isn't hers,” Nick told them all. He made a little hum of a noise afterwards and smirked when he managed to make Bishop laugh.

She shook her head even as she shrugged and considered the implication. “First thing a woman steals from a guy she's seeing is a comfortable shirt. Henley, hoodie, flannel.”

Gibbs bit back against any response at all, at least at first. Bishop had a point, though. Wasn't like he was completely inept when it came to women and dating, he knew he wasn't getting that shirt back anytime soon. He also knew it looked ten times better when she wasn’t wearing pants with it.

Still… The fact she was still wearing it hit him with heat right in the center of his chest. She must have come straight in from breakfast. Which meant Vance had to have called her shortly after McGee had called him. That or she had purposely decided to stay in his shirt just to torture him.

With Jack he really had no way of knowing which it could be.

“Would Delilah know any - ”

“Would anyone like to solve a case today?” he asked them sharply, aiming the glare Bishop’s way before she could further the conversation.

“Yup,” she agreed, head tipping as she leaned back into her computer. “On it.”

“Sure, Boss,” McGee agreed.

“Solve ‘The Mystery of Jack Sloane and Another Dude's Shirt’.” Nick tossed up between them, ever able to stick his foot right _in it_ , even without knowing it. “That's my dream girl he's messin’ with.”

 _Dream girl, huh_?

He found Nick's need to be protective sorta sweet… He also felt protective and possessive enough himself to wanna slap the younger man right upside the head. He felt his fingers flexing, a throb through his entire upper body that he had to acknowledge and then bury.

A breath later and he gave Nick a blank stare. “I can solve the mystery of your dismissal date if you'd like.”

“Naw, thanks,” Torres muttered, slanting an eye roll toward the rest of the team even as he turned to his own desk. “I'm good.”

**

“Torres has a crush on you.”

She felt her face flush into the beginning of the smile, her cheeks going pink for some unknown reason. Jack laughed into the surprising softness of his voice and how it made her ten times warmer, refusing to take her eyes off the file she’d been reading over when he'd leaned into the doorframe.

“Torres likes the idea of me but not the reality,” she countered as she finally looked up and over the rims of her reading glasses, watching him close the door behind himself. He looked tired but still more focused than she felt she probably was. She had no idea how the man could operate on so little sleep. “ _You_ have a crush on me, though.”

“More than,” Gibbs shrugged off without shame as he squared himself to the center of her desk and tapped against it. He purposely let his glance linger down the front of her, making it obvious that he was just enjoying the sight of her in his own clothing. “Nice shirt.”

If he was trying to make her blush harder and hotter then, well… he’d managed it. Even in just his jacket and jeans, teasing her with a half smirk… _God_ , he could twist her right up.

But there was no rule against her giving back as much as she'd gotten. And she did so deliciously enjoy teasing the hell out of him. So she slid back in her chair and purposely stretched out her neck, rubbing into sore muscles as she sighed. “Yeah… I'd really been looking forward to you taking it off.”

He blinked rapidly in bright eyed surprise and then his face darkened, brows lowering hard and lips pressing tightly closed against obvious frustration. His whole body tipped forward so that he could press palms to her messed desk and shrug, shaking his head. Jack just barely bit back a smile at his glowering reaction. “Thought that was still the plan? What's changed?”

Nothing much, really. She wanted the reassurance, though. She needed the knowledge that she hadn't imagined it all after too much to drink and a short night in his bedsheets. “Why not last night? Why wait?”

“Three beers and two bourbons later - I wanted you to be absolutely sure.” There was simple honesty in his voice, nothing but truth and an ache that sounded like it came from his lungs and for a minute she felt bad for asking at all.

But she'd never been great at trusting her own judgment when it came to romance, despite being an excellent judge of character otherwise. It always seemed to be the trust part that failed her so consistently. “That's all?”

He seemed to intrinsically know that, though.

“ _Jack_ … that's all,” he reassured before tapping against one of the folders on her desk. “Narrow down the playing field for me yet?”

“Lean on these two. I'll be finished with these in awhile.”

Gibbs just nodded his thanks as he took the two files she'd lifted over her desk. “You're comin’ over tonight, right?”

“I'd like to.”

“I may be late so just - ”

“I'll make myself comfortable,” she said and smirked, one shoulder lifted playfully as she turned her glance back down over the file she’d been half through. She figured that him swinging the conversation back to the case had been a cue, that he'd meant to leave. It was a moment before she realized that he wasn't going anywhere too far, though, his steps drawing him around the side of her desk rather than toward the door. “So… you're not leaving then?”

The blue of his eyes was darkened by the way he squinted at her, as though he was back-checking his own judgment. “Feels like I shouldn't yet. Feels like a mistake.”

“ _Okay_ ,” she said, drawing the second syllable long and taunting. He gave her a sidelong glance in answer, moving so that he was closer beside her.

Jack leaned back farther and turned her hand out, catching her fingers onto the edge of his Carhartt and tugging. She jerked against him and turned her head, watching as he fidgeted nearer her desk and shrugged. There was something unintentionally adorable to the way he rubbed his jawline against the collar of his jacket. It was strangely unlike him to seem… nervous, maybe? Or possibly just unsure? Of both himself and what he was thinking?

Her fingers stayed trapped up in the fabric, “Talk or sit or both, Cowboy. Take a load off.”

He actually did as asked, leaning back against the edge of her desk so that he was facing opposite her but close. His hand went flat to hers and pressed heat, pressed her still. “It really is just… didn't want it to seem like I was taking advantage.”

She smiled reflexively, one brow lifting in surprise as she searched over his face. He was matching her glance just as intently, silently watching her for any sort of unspoken response. The smile had seemed to settle him a little, encourage him.

“Good?” he questioned, leaning down to catch onto the way she had lifted her jaw toward him. He easily read her intent, dropping his mouth onto hers without hesitation. He had meant the kiss to be light and airy but she kept him close by hold of his coat and deepened its intensity until he gave up a groan.

“I believe you,” she murmured as she kissed against the corner of his mouth, his cheek. Her hand pulled from his and she gave him a playful shove off her desk. “Get to work.”

“You sneaking around on something for Leon?”

Jack turned him a pointed glare, brow arched as she waved him off. “None of your business. Get out of my office.”

“Thought so.”

 

***

 

They'd seen each other three more times before she'd called it quits and they'd made sure to be nothing more than civil and kind each time they were in front of the ‘kids’, purely platonic.

Well, except for the fact he'd given her the sweetest damn smile as she'd leaned over the railing, idly watching his team argue amongst themselves. He had taken one brief moment to ignore them and focus on her, those blue eyes so goddamn bright that something spiked hot in her gut and down.

And Ellie had been the one to notice it, the one to silently give her a half crooked look and chew against the inside of her cheek. It wouldn't be long before she had them pegged - _if_ anything came out of it. She obviously suspected something and especially when she'd watched Jack drop two more folders onto his desk while he was out.

_“These are the only other two that could fit the profile.”_

_“Not gonna wait? Figured you'd want to see him yourself.”_

It had been so subtle an accusation, made without even looking up from her work. Jack had to give her credit, she was a sly little thing. Her tone had been so conversational and light, so affable. A desk next to Jethro Gibbs was obviously a windfall to anyone who wanted their words measured by weight instead of length. He was a good teacher and Ellie was doing right by him too.

But it wasn't Ellie to surprise her by knocking back the elevator door as it started to close. “Heading home?”

Jack half smiled at McGee's question, holding the door for him as he slipped in beside her. The question had been just smug enough, just ever so knowing. There was no end to their interest, really, not his team. They had to go, go, go until they got what they needed. And they needed to know _all things Gibbs_. So protective of their proverbial dear-old-dad. It was… _mostly_ endearing

“For a bit. Need to grab a change of clothes,” she explained, smirking into the way he chuckled. She gave up trying to hide anything. It really wasn't worth the effort of trying in their workplace, everything was going to be found out at some point.

A look of apology softened the younger man's face and Sloane smiled sweeter in answer to it as he shrugged silently. His whole body slanted back so he could relax against the wall and put her more at ease at the same time. He read body language well. Better than his colleagues, maybe.

Tim McGee was a better man than any of them gave him credit for, honestly...

He sighed, let out the air from his lungs before snorting another brief laugh. “Yeah, Nick's pretty worried about the owner of that shirt.”

“Nick is trying to make Eleanor jealous,” Jack countered quickly as they passed the floor he should have gotten off on, both watching the numbers tick by. “And you know it.”

“Yeah, well, it made somebody jealous. Just not Bishop.”

_Well, well…_

It was nice to hear, though not entirely a surprise. Jethro was possessive, even just when they were alone. His hands hand a tendency to claim and then defend, mostly unintentionally. He was adept at putting himself just beside her, angled behind her but close, out in front - wherever he needed to be to protect her.

She peeked sideways and caught the way McGee was just grinning straight forward, not making her face the fact that he was completely aware of how Gibbs watched her. Maybe he didn't realize how far things between them had gone… Maybe he didn't realize that she was _actually wearing_ Gibbs’ shirt, but…

But, God, apparently he knew exactly what it looked like when Gibbs had eyes on a target.

“Captain of the Guard, aren't you?” She turned her head fully while asking, waited for him to shake off his confusion and look back at her with curiosity. “You see everything? You've seen all the ups and downs, the comings and goings.”

“Me? Naw,” he near stuttered. He damn near blushed over it too. But it was true. She had done her research, she knew how much (good and bad, horror and wonder) Tim had seen from just behind Gibbs’ shoulder. “That's Ducky's place. Especially for Gibbs.”

“Changing of the guard, Tim,” she murmured as she squeezed his arm, the elevator car coming to a slight jerk of a stop. She leaned into him, letting her head lay against his upper arm until the door clicked and started sliding open. “Hug Dee and the kids for me.”

“Have a good weekend, Sloane.”

 

***

The sound of him hushing her was what woke her entirely, a gently comforting shushing as he touched against her shoulder. He spoke her name quietly, probably knowing that she’d already started to wake when he’d walked into the room. She’d shifted farther into consciousness as he’d set a paper bag to the coffee table and then reached for her. Jack groaned lightly, rubbing her cheek against the pillow that she’d wedged under her head and momentarily enjoyed the way he was rubbing the pads of his fingers against her scalp in small repetitive circles.

He kept mostly still otherwise, massaging against the back of her head as she stretched and made another groaned noise. The presence of him was such a heat to her, such a sudden wash of heat and energy. “What’d you bring me?”

“Cannoli from Lucatelli’s.” Gibbs loosened his fingers out of her mussed hair and bent, tapping at her legs to get her to make room so that he could sit on the edge of the couch. Jack tugged at the blanket she’d dragged down from his bedroom and wedged farther back on the cushions so that he could sit with her. He had dumped his coat off somewhere between her and the kitchen and the front door.

“Are you bribing me, Agent Gibbs?” She met his eyes with a sleep shaded smile, her voice still muzzed up and not nearly as clear as she’d hoped.

He smelled good and smiled sheepishly. He smelled like himself and sweetened up coffee and baked goods. He smelled wonderful but he looked so damn tired. He'd been going since breakfast and likely without a break.

“You're cute when you're all fuzzy,” he told her, keeping his words quieted. She appreciated that, the quietude. It was nice. It was Gibbs.

A grumped sound rose off her as she wiggled around onto her back and let him pull down a bit of the blanket that had gotten tangled under her hand. It felt nice to have his help, to be on the receiving end of unchecked affection. “M’not fuzzy. Is that coffee?”

“I called Serafina and asked her to throw some stuff together before I left headquarters,” Gibbs whispered, keeping his voice low and hushed as he brushed her hair out of her eyes. She nearly purred as he brushed against her ear and then along the line of her jaw.

“It _is_ bribery,” she said through a sleepy laugh, still trying to shake herself awake as she sat up and pressed her back into the arm of the couch. Jack shoved her hair back off her face with both hands before trying to stifle a yawn and failing. She heard Gibbs chuckle at her as she pressed both palms against her face and yawned hard anyhow.

“ _Special_ Agent Gibbs, by the way,” he corrected as he leaned against her, stretching over her legs so he could rest against her and put his arm to the back of the couch at once. Jack nearly squeaked happiness when he handed her the coffee he’d been cradling close.

She hummed a noise of pleasure, pressing the warm plastic of the lid against her bottom lip and drinking in the smell. The cup stayed close as a sort of comfort item, a hand warmer as she peered up at Gibbs with sleepy eyes and a charmed smile. “I knew it was for me. I could smell the sugar.”

“Spoiled,” Gibbs murmured, letting his now empty hand land against her knee and stay there, fingers making small circles against her. “Dinner’s in the fridge. Hungry?”

“Food too?”

He shrugged one broad shoulder, using long fingers to incrementally drag the blanket down the front of her. His hand didn’t shift from its place on her thigh but he continued pulling it down and bunching it beneath his fingers. He seemed a little disappointed to realize that she'd changed her clothes but a brow went up and his lips parted slightly at the sight of the white tank top she was wearing.

What she thought looked like a bittersweet smile touched over his lips as he looked up and then it went into a full blown grin. She knew he'd recognize how much vulnerable trust was implied when it was something that could very easily show him most all of her scars. It was exactly the sort of thing he would note and mentally catalog for later.

“I told her I had a beautiful woman waiting at home. She got excited. Especially when she figured out it was you.”

“I mean... I’m not starving if that’s what you’re asking.” _Damn_ , she nearly moaned when he started stroking her thigh. The entire span of his palm frictioned heat against her and she bit onto her bottom lip, forcing herself to breath before continuing. “You should eat, though. I’ll drink my coffee.”

He smiled reflexively at the way she nudged him toward self care, as though he'd been waiting for it. “Had a sandwich a while ago. Want a fire?”

“Mmm,” she nodded quickly, unable to keep from smiling back as he bent forward and pushed off the back of the couch to stretch over her.

“Want company?” he asked, leaning into the way she put a hand up for him to stop. She reached out for him as he dropped a kiss against her hair.

Jack tugged at his shirt, wanting to keep them tethered up just a little longer before he stepped away. “Most definitely.”

“Drink your coffee for me. You're still not really awake.”

Jack mocked rolling her eyes at him as she let go. She easily snugged back down into the blanket with a supposed pout before sipping at the coffee. “You're not the boss of me.”

He slapped at her leg, light and playful, stepping away and before she could retaliate. “We'll see about that.”


	4. Chapter Four

He groaned as she left him, unaware of what was happening until he realized that he’d fallen asleep. Somewhere between snugging up in front of the fire and discussing the case, discussing his team, teasing each other with softly intimate touches and equally small (but comforting) kisses… Somewhere in between all of it he'd fallen asleep with her wedged in beside him.

To be fair - she'd promptly ignored the rest of the coffee and fallen back to sleep as soon as the fire had gone low and she'd had a silent Gibbs-sized pillow.

She'd given in first. He had just followed.

“You're fine,” she whispered as the fire snapped at him, cracking his attention back to the room. Her hand left his even as he tried to catch against her fingers and he watched her from behind, enjoying the sight off his own flannel pajama pants slung low on her hips.

“Come back,” he groused after her, hearing his own voice go raspy.

Jack waved back at him, tossing him off. “In a minute.”

“Where are you going?”

“If Serafina packed the food then she probably sent cheesecake,” she explained, patience fraying up on the edges of her tone.

“Ya know, if she were a man I'd be worried.”

Jack just snorted as she turned into the kitchen and out of his line of sight. She was headed for the fridge, for sure. “She's charming _and_ an excellent cook so you should probably still be worried, Jethro.”

That was it. First time.

The first time with any woman always told him the rest of the story.

She said his name with such intrinsic affection - but also a breath of sass, with a loving tease and heat.

And it made his heart swan dive to the bottom of his gut. _Jesus_ , she made it sound sexy.

That got him up and pressing off the couch with a patent smirk. His knees both gave him hell for the way he'd been stretched out, feet on the coffee table. Still, her head against his lower chest and her hand wedged between his thighs? It had been more than worth the awkward positioning.

“It's almost two in the morning, Jack.”

She laughed and it was quiet but welcoming, “So you don't want any?”

He wanted _her_ , that was an absolute.

And his whole body very suddenly realized it, from the back of his neck to his gut and right to the groin, mostly. She was the most delicious and desirable looking thing in his kitchen, lit from the front and throwing most of her back in shadow as he watched her stare into the fridge.

“Bottom shelf.”

“You have four bottles of steak sauce but no fruit.”

He shrugged off her commentary, half ignoring it as he stepped up into the back of her and fit his chin between her neck and shoulder. “So, I'll buy fruit.”

She melted a little as he slung his arms around her, her shoulders going down and head going back as she exhaled. Gibbs nodded at her silent acceptance and turned his face into her hair, enjoying the fact that it was still down and still a mess and smelled like his shampoo. She couldn't have spent long at her home if she'd used his shower...

“You don't have to. I was just - ”

“Shhh,” he pressed into her hair, kissing behind her ear as he spread on of his palms flat to her stomach. “Relax, Jack.”

She took a deep breath in answer and he didn't think she'd even realized that she'd been holding her lungs still. Her hand caught along his wrist and clung there, fingers wrapping around it and resting. The other balanced against the top of the fridge door and he nearly laughed at the way she braced herself. He knew not to move too suddenly on her, though. Not at first. It wasn't just her being nervous. She was cautious, muscles still slightly tensed up beneath his touch. She was judging every movement he made against her.

“You really want the cheesecake?” he asked gently, intentionally trying to loosen her up.

“Depends. What are my options?”

His mouth rose higher, kissing behind her ear and drawing a moaned sound out of her. She lightly stamped her heel into his kitchen floor and reached back, clasping her hand at his neck as she made a huffed noise.

“ _Tease_ ,” she ground out as he kissed his way down her neck.

“Sweetie, I'm not teasing.” The answer struck her still again, her whole body flexed tight. “I'm all in.”

She laughed and he hadn't expected it, not really. Not with how tense her upper body still seemed as he kept close, as he pressed his chest full against the spread of her scars. “You sure about that? Last night that was mistake.”

“No, that was the perfect choice,” he argued just below her jaw before he sent his tongue after the tanged taste of her perfume. “Got me right here.”

She moaned at the answer but it was nearly more of a growl, semi-annoyed but also a hard exhalation as she caught against his jaw and turned her head at once, yanking his mouth up to hers. She rushed the kiss, dragged him into it mercilessly and he was more thankful for it than he'd thought he would be. Jack didn't seem like the sort of woman to second guess herself much, least not when she was in action.

They'd been just hedging on the edge of it for a day, neither of them ready to shove the other person over. Least not until she gripped him close and moaned onto his tongue with her entire body laid back onto his. _And_ at ease with it, thankfully.

The tension was loosening out of her torso, out of her hips and thighs. He felt her sink back heavier into his chest and he broke their kiss with a grin, enjoying the way she dropped her head back onto his shoulder and inhaled deeply. Gibbs turned his head as much as he could to watch her, letting his fingers find their way up under the hem of her tank top and across her stomach.

“We done being metaphorical, Gibbs?” she asked raggedly, eyes going shut while she blew out a shudder of breath. Her whole rib cage vibrated with it and his other hand palmed her hip, brought her resting back into his sturdiness.

“I'm ready for literal,” he told her, stroking his palms up the front of her and giving up a smug grin as she whimpered in his hands. “How about you?”

Her cheek pressed against his jaw, breath going slanted, “Oh, more than.”

 

***

She wasn't necessarily surprised by how often he made her laugh… but she was definitely put at ease by it. His teasing, tickling fingers and laughter and it all just made her lungs work better than they had with some other men. Just as she'd been saved some anxiety when he had sat to the bed first, letting her come to him, letting her control the movements, the moments between them.

Putting herself into his space was the easy part, really. It was routine for them now, finding a bit of space that was close enough to be near intimate but far enough to not be incriminating. They'd become masters at living on parallel planes, side-by-side and not touching. And even when they did touch, it had to totter on the edge of platonic. Just close enough to loving.

He half smirked as she studied him, questioning on his face as he watched her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she laughed lightly, taking the hand he offered before stepping into the way his other palm caught her hip close. “Just thinking about how good we’d gotten at never crossing the line.”

The sun goes down and barely brushes past the moon and it's the same the other way around, too… She had always thought that of him. It wasn't until right then that she realized she'd been teaching herself to do the same.

They had trained themselves to accept moments each day, just minutes, passing by each other. As though it had been cosmic clockwork and unchangeable, as though it had been the single rule they’d both had to abide by.

“Pretty sure we've passed it now.”

Sometimes, she thought, sometimes humanity’s understanding of the cosmos could be disastrously incorrect.

Just ask Pluto.


	5. Chapter Five

He felt her whole body arch and jerk still and he stopped every muscle that he could. “Jack… it's okay.”

“I didn't say that it wasn't,” Jack bit back quickly, her breath hitching. He heard her throat constrict as she swallowed down her emotions. Gibbs stayed unmoving against her, letting his lips continue lingering along her throat as she spoke. “I'm not… It's different.”

It was different with him… because she'd told him the truth already, right? He already knew where it hurt and why and how long the torture had lasted. She couldn't play at being mysterious, she couldn't tell lies about her life when he’d already been read in on the highlights. She couldn’t be anything but the Army Lieutenant that had been held as a prisoner of war for nine months, disastrously abused, both mentally and physically.

She couldn’t hide the scars that he'd already seen, whether literal or metaphorical. She couldn't lead a lie between them when she'd already given him the truth. “Because I know where they came from?”

“Yes,” she ducked her jaw and found his mouth with her own, arms circling his head as she kissed him. It was a strong kiss, one that encircled him and urged on the exploration of his hands. He stroked up her sides, digging under the fabric of her shirt once again.

Gibbs let his palms stay flat as his fingertips found the lower edging of the scars she carried and he felt her shoulder blades shift as he traced against them. She whimpered into the kiss and the sound of it laid onto his tongue as she clinched closer. He pressed his right palm higher and covered as much of the marred skin as he could with one hand, the other shifting so that he could lift her jaw with his thumb and forefinger, breaking the kiss.

“It's just you, Jack,” he told her quietly, turning his head into her hair as she avoided his eyes and his palm stayed flat and hot against her back.

“It's different with you,” she told him quietly, pressing to stand but not before she kissed him chastely. And he dropped his hands from her as she moved because the last thing he wanted to do was push when it came to this particular thing. Not when she couldn't seem to look him in the eyes, when she was quite so seemingly self conscious.

So he was surprised by the fact that she just turned her back to him and stripped the tank top off, bra-less bare skin taunting him. The white of fabric went dropped to the floor and looked perfect against his carpet, her back completely visible and flexed tight. Gibbs squeezed his hands into fists, gripping them closed against grabbing after her. He made himself stretch back instead, palms stretching flat to his sides on the mattress while she slid the waistline of his pants down off her hips without a turn or a word.

“ _Jack_ ,” he sent after her with a low growling tone.

“Shush,” she turned back over her shoulder, stretching her back as one hand went up to twist into her hair.

He watched her curiously as she tangled it up, his right hand lifting as she stepped back again and sat into his lap. His fingers caught against the thin black fabric of her underwear, tugging on it as she sank back against him. Her hand was still brushing her hair away from her neck and he let his mouth fall onto freshly uncovered, undiscovered, skin. Jack sighed hard enough that it sounded out throughout the room and he laughed as he nipped against her neck, nose rubbing her hairline.

He had figured on her being way more vocal a partner, honestly. He'd figured on her spending a whole lot more time telling him what to do.

He wasn't sure if her silence was a concern or a comfort… But he brought his hands up her body and curved his palms at her breasts and accepted the sound she made low in her throat as unspoken approval.

 

***

His mouth between her thighs was what pulled a moaned “ _Jesus_ , Gibbs” out of her and she felt him laugh, all breath against her.

“There it is,” he responded softly as his lips brushed the inside of one thigh. “Been too quiet up there.”

Too quiet? He'd ruthlessly pulled every sound out of her that any man could manage while putting his hands and mouth over the entirety of her body and, _for fuck's sake_ , when was the last time a man like him worried about a woman being too quiet? The man very publicly bowed down to the altar of quietude. She was surprised that he was so concerned.

His left hand stretched flat on her stomach and pressed her hips down, drawing her attention as his other fingers met his mouth and started a strategic assault that she didn't even want to consider fending off.

She did everything she could to relax her hips and enjoy him but he was making it damn difficult. Every stroke and swipe of his tongue, every time he slid a finger or two into her, every touch against her clit… All of her hummed in answer, a ceaseless vibration that had parts of her tingling or singing or moaning. She couldn't control herself and didn't much want to, really…

Nor did she want it to end, not with how expertly he paced it. Every slow build brought her right up to the edge and moaning but then sank her back again. And he kept doing it - he sped her up just to slow her right back down again. He brought her hips to writhing and shivering just so he could kiss them smooth and still again.

Finally she gave a sharp enough tug to his hair that he laughed in answer, guilty but giddy over teasing her. The sound and heat of it went kissed on one inner thigh and she whimpered in response. Her whole lower body felt so sensitive, and especially when he kept stroking his hands and mouth over her.

“Please?” she asked again, just then realizing that she'd been begging him ‘ _please_ ’ over and again. She reached down and caught against the hand that was pressing her hips down, giving him a moan when he locked up their fingers and used the weight of their combined hands to hold her down.

She wasn't sure how many times she had asked but apparently her begging him for anything was the way to get to his heart. Because she could swear she heard a mumbled something-something-‘ _sweetheart_ ’ before he finished what he'd started. Maybe she was just hearing things, though… Maybe she couldn't even remember the sound of her own name. Maybe no other man could have said it the same way he did anyhow… And _maybe_ she was just an idiot, infatuated with her sexy co-worker.

He was brutally unforgiving about making her come, though. At least he was once he had decided he'd heard enough pleading. Once he decided to cut her a break and drag her mercilessly over the edge of it.

“Give it up, Lieutenant,” he murmured, voice grit down and rumbling. “I've got ya.”

She gave into him so easily, too. She dug their hands together and fisted them into her pelvis as her back arched, the whole of her shivering as he kept at her with his mouth and fingers. Her feet scrambled against the sheets and she couldn't help the movement even as he laughed, breath hot as he finished her with rough fingers on her clit and a sweet kiss to the inside of her thigh. The moaned sound she made was enough to make him laugh happily against her knee and then she went flash-bang-blind for a second, her empty hand buried in his hair.

“Son of a bitch,” she whimpered, her body jolting when his tongue took another swipe at her clit as she came down. “I outrank you, goddamn it.”

“Not anymore.” Gibbs laughed again, his mouth stacking kisses back up to her bent knee as her hands both loosened from him and dropped to her sides.

She lazily stretched against the mussed sheets as she watched him haul his shirt over his head and toss it down with hers. Jack swiped her hair off her face, forcing her lungs to relax their pace, blowing out with a slow shudder as he undid his pants and laughed over her at once.

It was sweet, though, that laughter. There was nothing malicious or judgmental about it. It was all pleasure, maybe a bit smug, but mostly made of pride and happiness. She could see that much in his eyes. He was pleased with himself but mainly because he had pleased her and, Christ, she’d had a hard time finding that in a man sometimes.

“I think I just realized how you got four women to marry you,” she mumbled quietly, watching as he kicked his pants off and feeling half dazed. Her hips went flat against the mattress and she stretched again, making a sated sound come up from her lungs as he got rid of the socks and the boxers too. She liked watching him, liked being the woman who could watch him undress from his bed.

Her muscles felt loosely melted and unsure and she still didn't feel much like moving yet so she kept watch. She was too blissed out and limp to give him any real help yet. Still, she couldn't help but smile as he leaned down over her, one of his hands stroking her knees farther apart with a slow gentleness. He parted her legs and easily leaned between them, the movement so seemingly fluid and easy for him that she sighed beneath him.

Gibbs tipped his head into the way she went raking through his hair as he exhaled. “Not my charm?”

“You're not _that_ adorable.” She welcomed him over her by sliding both legs around him and tipping up her hips, watching his jaw go slack as he shut his eyes.

“You sure?” he questioned, finally giving up a deep lunged groan as she pressed up into the way he'd settled between her legs.

“Where did you learn to - ”

“Figured I'd better choose one thing to do really well and stick to it.” The interruption was sharp, breathless and far more impish than she'd expected. It had pulled a laugh right out of her and, in turn, that had drawn him to kissing her, his mouth taking hers without hesitation.

He was smooth, she knew that already. But she hadn't realized the full extent of it until he'd managed to kiss her starstruck. There was promise in the way he centered himself above her, balancing his weight and groaning against her as her hands soothed up the sides of his ribs.

“You're such an ass,” she sighed, enjoying the look he quirked her, one brow higher than the other and mischievous.

He shrugged, shifting his pelvis upward and lining them up a little better, his grin reaching full wattage as he managed to friction the length of his erection right where she wanted it. “I think that's why y’like me, Sloane.”

“Among my many other reasons, sure.”

 

***

Long fingers caught into her hair and he twisted the blonde back away from her face. “Why was it okay to tell me?”

He felt her sigh after he asked and he could only imagine that she was trying to decide how to answer.

He liked that about her… That she really considered her words when warranted.

“You know what it's like to give up,” she admitted without looking up, self assured but still refusing to meet his eyes with her own. Her fingertips were tracing the scar on his chest, ringing around the physical memory the bullet had made just below his heart. “Or to think you have. You know where rock bottom is.”

Gibbs made a mild noise of disagreement once her words sank past her touch, feeling like he wanted to fight the world for her, ready to do it. Ready to start swinging when she needed him to. _Jesus_ , he couldn't help the feeling, either. Not when she was so warmly pressed up his side and smelled like sex and him and there was something about the smell of a woman, this woman. She was the comfort of home and something exotic at once. “You didn't give up, though.”

“No, something in me _did_ ,” Jack told him, her tone bittersweet. “For awhile.”

“That's… I meant ‘ _all in_ ’, Jack. When I said - ”

“I believed you, Gibbs” she assured him as she finally raised her head, her dark eyes deep and comforting. “Metaphorically and literally.”

He exhaled as she snugged in tighter, ducking her head to rest up under his jaw. “Gonna tell me what you're workin’ on for Vance, then?”

“Jethro, shut the hell up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a Christopher Poindexter poem.


End file.
